


Captain's Orders

by junko



Series: Curse of the Nue [25]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-09
Updated: 2012-09-09
Packaged: 2017-11-13 21:28:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/507890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the intruder alarms turn out to be false, Renji recklessly goads Byakuya into issuing some rather awkward and embarrassing commands...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Captain's Orders

**Author's Note:**

> For red*robin -- our boys gets a respite of sorts before Ichigo and company descend on the Soul Society. 
> 
> For those not following the whole convoluted mess that is my Byakuya/Renji, this _can_ just be read just for the sexy bits, if you wish. If you skip to the break, I think most of it will make sense in context. The only thing that may surprise is that my Senbonzakura _sings_ \--in a thousand harmonizing voices. Also, Renji's resigned resiliance afterward might make more sense to regular "Curse of the Nue" readers.

Byakuya met Renji outside conference room two. Renji was unusually quiet and sullen, and a surprising number of lieutenants gave them both distinctly dirty looks. When Rangiku Matsumoto kept glancing at Byakuya over her shoulder, Byakuya finally asked, “What’s this?”

“Nothing, just a stupid squabble,” Renji shrugged. “So the head captain wants us at battle stations? It’s the ryoka, isn’t it?”

“It seems so, though the timing of the alarms intrigues me,” Byakuya said. He regarded Renji for a long moment. He was curious what it had been that the lieutenants had fought about and he wanted to discuss what had transpired between Ichimaru and Azien, but, one look at him, and it was clear Renji had slept in his uniform. Or, perhaps, left his hakama crumbled in a corner while—

A breeze of spiritual pressure picked up the edges of his scarf, and Byakuya had to stop and take a breath. Trying to imagine what exactly had caused the crinkles in Renji’s shihakushô was not a good idea.

“Whoa, Taicho. You okay?”

Renji sounded genuinely concerned. Could Renji possibly have no idea? Fine. He would explain the problem to his moronic lieutenant. “You were away last night,” Byakuya said, as they began to walk back in the general direction of the Sixth. Renji naturally fell into step behind him. “Were you at Captain Kyōraku’s party, as well?”

“I… uh, wait, what? You were there? You came down to the Eleventh? When?”

“Very late,” Byakuya admitted coolly. “I was informed you had been there, but had already left with someone.”

Behind him, he sensed Renji coming to a sudden halt. “Oh, I get it now. That’s why you moved out.”

Byakuya stopped, and turned to glance at him over his shoulder. Renji looked… stricken and terribly, terribly guilty. Something in Byakuya’s heart grew heavy and cold at the sight of Renji’s mortified face. They were on the street, but with the alarms blaring and people running everywhere, Byakuya felt free to say plainly, “It would be a tiny bit less painful if you would even _pretend_ to deny it, Renji.”

He started at that, but his face crumpled into a frown instantly. “Why the hell should I? We’re not lovers, Byakuya. That’s what you told me. I’m pretty sure that means I’m free to screw around with whoever else I want.”

Byakuya held his tongue. Unfortunately, Renji was right. If Renji really was his wakashū and nothing more, then, yes, of course, he could see other people. Byakuya could, as well. Ever bringing up the idea of wakashido had been a terrible mistake. Now he would have to abide by its rules, or tell Renji the truth.

Renji still stood in the middle of the street, staring at him angrily. Byakuya turned to face him. The sunlight was bright, making Renji’s bushy topknot glow like fire. His usual white head cloth covered most of his facial tattoos, but the eyebrows marks made his dark expression even fiercer.

Unfaithful, but as gorgeous as sin itself.

“I don’t want you to see anyone else,” Byakuya said finally, with a small sigh. “I want you to be mine.”

#

It should have been a beautiful moment. Byakuya was finally admitting to wanting something from him, but that word ‘mine’ and the way Byakuya said it made Renji flinch. It was too much like what he’d said before, that night of the alley, ‘you’re here because you’re mine, and this is where I want you.’

Renji felt the blood draining from his face, and his mouth went dry. “Oh,” was all he managed to say.

Byakuya’s eyebrows twitched together, briefly, in confusion. “Oh?”

“I mean, great; I mean, yeah.” Renji stopped. Jeez, what was wrong with him? Why did his gut drop out like that now, at Byakuya’s big moment here? They’d mostly gotten past that night, hadn’t they? There’d been the hug and… uh, the slap… okay, _no_.

What was missing was the apology and maybe a decent explanation of the bondage fest—for the alley, and well, pretty much always. Because if this big moment was supposed to mean that Renji wasn’t Byakuya’s waka-fuck-toy-whatever, what the heck had all that been about?

“Your enthusiasm overwhelms me, Renji,” Byakuya said dryly.

“I… it’s just that I think we need to talk, you know, sometime when there’s not alarms blaring and a potential invasion happening.”

“Ah. Very well,” Byakuya said, sweeping back into motion with a swirl of scarf and haori.

 

#

They found some time later that evening.

Things settled down after a few hours when no one could find a trace of a breech anywhere along the walls. Though some divisions had begun to stand down assuming a false alarm, Renji decided to set up shifts to defend their quadrant of the Seireitei, just in case. If nothing else, he had his people keep an active perimeter to stop the Eleventh from running through like headless chickens—it seemed Kenpachi had his forces scattered everywhere in complete panic mode. However, it didn’t seem to Renji as though an invasion from anyone beyond the Eleventh was immanent. Satisfied his soldiers well prepared for any contingency, Renji presented himself at the estate as promised.

It was weird going in the front door; he was so used to taking the servant’s entrances. He wasn’t even sure he’d ever been in the grand hall before or seen just how majestic the fusuma paneled walls of the Kuchiki estate were. Everything was polished cherry wood and silk, reminding Renji of what he’d seen of the guest quarters at the Spirit King’s palace.

The house steward showed him through several rooms to a slightly more intimate, though extraordinarily exquisite, library. The room smelled of red rot, bringing back one of Renji’s fondest memories of Academy—the scent of old books. Byakuya sat in a well lit corner on a za-button pillow. He still wore the kenseikan, but had changed into a light blue kimono decorated with a fantastic array of sea creatures in darker blues and greens. White scallop shells were embroidered along the hems.

He looked stunning.

Why did Renji feel so strange and out of place, then, standing here? To cover it, he stood at attention and said, “Our zone is secure, sir.”

“Good. At ease, Renji. We’re here to talk of other matters,” Byakuya said, beckoning him over to join him on the cushions.

Renji picked his way over to the pillows and sat down, trying to find a comfortable position that didn’t make him feel too tall, too lumbering, too ready to accidentally break something phenomenally expensive. It didn’t help that he’d left Zabimaru with the steward in the front hall. He’d gotten used to having him at his side again, and now he felt underdressed and exposed.

And yet there was Senbonzakura, propped against a nearby bookstand. They sat close enough that Renji could almost hear its multitude of voices, singing softly. No wonder Byakuya preferred silence—it was so he could hear his zanpaktō’s constant song. “Must be nice,” Renji said with an appreciative smile.

“What must?” Byakuya asked, having set the book he’d been reading aside.

Renji closed his eyes, enjoying the sound for a moment, before nodding the direction of Senzonzakura. “It’s like a lullaby, almost, isn’t it?”

Byakuya’s hand reached to cover Senbonzakura’s hilt, as though to muffle the music. Renji could see his eyebrows knit together briefly. “How is it that you can detect anything from so far away?”

Renji had been hoping to bond over something, but he should have known zanpaktōs were a thorny subject. He backed away from the topic with upraised hands, “Sorry. Nevermind,” he said. Then, fishing around for some other conversation starter, he looked around the library. “Uh, so… you have a lovely home. I think you must have more books than the Academy library.”

“Hardly,” Byakuya snorted. And, then peering at him curiously asked, “Did you ever even step foot in the Academy’s library?”

Renji laughed lightly at the dripping condescension in Byakuya’s tone, “Actually I was there so much the librarian had a cot for me in the stacks.”

Byakuya frowned briefly again, though this time, it was his startled expression, “Truly?”

“I know, hard to imagine, right? But I pulled a lot of late nights learning to read… and write, and… well, you know, generally play catch up on a lot of the basic stuff most of the cadets already knew.” Renji smiled thinking back on it. “I had a total crush on the librarian. I still have a sexy librarian fetish.”

Shaking his head in amusement, Byakuya asked, “Wasn’t she a little old lady?”

“Maybe a couple hundred years ago,” Renji said with a shrug. “Mine was pretty hot, though turns out she was a lesbraian. So even if I’d dared to go for it, she wouldn’t have been interested.”

“A ‘lesbraian,’” Byakuya pinched the space between his nose, as if he were suddenly getting a headache, “Renji. Really.”

“What? She’s the one who taught me the term. Anyway, she was my hero. I’d never insult her. Plus, you should have seen her girlfriend,” Renji resisted the urge to give Byakuya the elbow nudge, but just barely. He could feel the lascivious smile on his face at the images flooding his brain, “Whole set of new fantasies there. Heh.”

Byakuya was shaking his head again, but he was smiling slightly. Then a thought seemed to hit him and his expression sobered. “I suppose that’s just the way you are.”

Renji thought about that for a second. Easy? A horny redhead? He supposed he should swallow the impulse to be offended by the fact that Byakuya’s comment seemed to imply a sort of ‘what can I expect from someone from Inuzuri?’ Like, the fact that Renji was from the outer districts made him naturally more of a slut.

Renji took a breath and tried to just nod noncommittally. After all, Byakuya seemed to be working out a way to forgive him for Isane—even though Renji still wasn’t sure he needed absolution for something he should have had every right to enjoy. Sure, he knew Byakuya was possessive type. He even knew Byakuya had wanted him to stay over that night, but Renji was fed up with this half-assed relationship of theirs.

_Shit or get off the pot, Kuchiki._

If they were just fuck-buddies, fine. But, if Byakuya wanted something more, he needed to say so. It wasn’t like Renji hadn’t offered. And, all he’d gotten for his efforts was ‘why would you say such a foolish thing’ and an actual, goddamn slap in the face.

“You have your thinking face on,” Byakuya noted, his voice warm with affection. “Should I be worried?”

A smarter man would take advantage of the moment and lean over and kiss him. Instead, Renji asked, “You’re never going to apologize for hitting me, are you?”

“I’m sorry, what? When did I ever _hit_ you?”

“Okay, ‘slap,’ whatever.”

Byakuya’s eyebrows rose. “I wouldn’t have thought such a little thing would bother someone like you.”

A little thing? Someone like him? Renji rubbed his jaw and covered his mouth with his hand to keep from raging incoherently. He breathed through his nose and it was a long time before he could say anything. Finally, he dropped his hand. “So, that’s a ‘no,’ then.”

The captain’s eyes narrowed. “Perhaps you’ll get yours when I get one for your inability to keep your pants on the one night we’re separated.”

Renji couldn’t help it. The words just shot out: “I wouldn’t think ‘such a little thing’ would bother someone who’s just using me as a rent boy.”

The instant well of reistsu nearly crushed the air from Renji’s lungs. A vase rattled on a nearby table and several books fell from the shelves. Renji steeled himself for the blow that was sure to follow, but Byakuya didn’t even raise his hand. Instead, he said quietly, “Perhaps you should go.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Renji agreed. “But we need to figure this out, Taicho,” he said, deliberately using Byakuya’s rank. “We need to work together.”

“Do we?”

Oh. Right. He guessed they didn’t _have_ to. He could transfer out or… get fired.

“In fact,” Byakuya continued, “I believe at the very beginning of this I was very clear that your staying my lieutenant was contingent on your ability to be obedient.”

The captains’ words were like a sucker punch to the gut. Of course Renji had a vague memory of agreeing to those terms, and blurting out some kind of flowery, romantic, loyal-for-life-how-high-should-he-jump declaration he’d made in order to get Byakuya into bed. But, for real? Was Byakuya seriously using his position to threaten Renji in to falling into line--in the bedroom? It couldn’t be. Byakuya was a better captain than that.

Right?

Then, why did Byakuya look so serious, his lips set in such a grim, determined line?

No, way. Renji would call his bluff. “All right, so what are your orders then?” He looked down at his uniform. “You want me naked? Here? Now? What?”

Byakuya’s eyes caught his for a breathtakingly long moment. Renji had felt crushed by Byakuya’s reistsu, but the captain's gaze was so much more intense… and frightening. Finally, Byakuya said, “Oh, I see. You think I wouldn’t.”

Right, of course Byakuya wouldn’t. So, Renji said belligerently, “Just waiting on your command, captain.”

Renji thought perhaps he’d won this round from the stretch of silence that followed. Good. Maybe now Byakuya would realize how ridiculous it was to expect this weird subservience from him. Renji had just started to relax when Byakuya gave a stiff little nod, “Very well. I’ll order tea,” he said ringing the servants. “You can strip.”

“What..?”

“I believe I gave you a direct order, Renji. Stand up. Take your clothes off.”

But… this was much worse than what Renji was expecting. It was one thing to imagine being commanded to give him a kiss or even a blow job when they were alone. A servant was coming! Did Byakuya really expect Renji to be standing there, buck naked, doing gods knew what else, in front of the staff?

“On your feet, soldier.”

It was too many years of training that had Renji leaping up. Once he found himself standing, he looked down at Byakuya still trying to read how far the captain was planning on taking this. His face was set very intently--cold and hard. But, what was that in his gaze? A spark of hunger, like that first time Byakuya had drunkenly ordered him to take his clothes off, in his office of all places, what seemed like years ago….

Despite himself, Renji felt a thrill quiver through his body, settling deep between his legs. His breathing became shallow and fast. Oh dear gods, he shouldn’t give into this. He wasn’t going to be able to pretend he wasn’t into it if his cock was as stiff as a board when the hakama finally hit the floor. He might just have to admit he kind of liked it, all this being used, and then where would they be?

He’d be on his knees, in more ways than one.

Renji would have to stop making demands and just take whatever crumbs Byakuya offered him.

_Meh. Same old, same old, then._

The captain’s eyes were on him, staring at the growing bulge at his crotch. “It seems at least some part of you wishes to obey,” Byakuya noted. “And the rest? Must I repeat myself, lieutenant?”

“No, sir,” he said, hating himself for the automatic response and reflexive ‘sir.’ He took a breath. Okay, several minutes must have passed already, right? If he went slow enough, he might still have a shred of dignity left when the tea finally came. He reached up and untied the cloth around his head. Renji was proud of himself to be able to work the knot despite trembling fingers.

You’d think he’d be used to this, he sighed to himself. Didn’t it always start this way? Except this time, every creak of floorboard and tatami had him twitching and glancing at the door. Finally, his scarf came loose and he tossed it at Byakuya, forcing him to choose to catch or let it hit him in the face. The captain, of course, snagged it from the air with no effort, not even a blink of surprise.

Bastard.

Just for that, Renji decided to leave his hair for last. Instead, he tugged at the kosode hard, trying to pull it out without loosening his obi. Just then, the servant appeared at the door. He almost jumped when she cleared her throat. Fuck if it wasn’t Aio, too.

“My lord?”

“Tea service,” he said simply, his eyes never leaving Renji, “For one.”

Renji held his breath. Byakuya was going to just sat back in his fancy cushions, drink tea, and watch him. Holy fuck. And, why, oh why, did that thought have to turn him on so hard that he had to suppress a groan?

Aio seemed taken aback, too. Renji sensed her looking at him, standing there, with his fists wrapped in his shirt, his teeth biting his lips to keep from making a noise, and paused in an obvious undressing gesture with his cock noticeably straining. He kept his own eyes on Byakuya, though he could feel the muscles in his jaw flexing the longer she stood there gaping at the two of them. Finally, thank fate, she bowed her head. “Yes, my lord, tea for one.”

“Next time,” Byakuya said, as he door whispered shut. His voice was just a bit louder than was necessary, “You will not stop to wait for her to leave, Renji. Do you understand me?”

“Right,” he said feebly, feeling heat on his face. With a blush raging across his cheeks, Renji had to stare at the floor as he tugged the stubborn kosode until it came free. Unfortunately, he’d had to use so much effort that the shitagi came out too. The folds fell open, revealing a sliver of his chest and torso to the open air. The cool on his skin and Byakuya’s hot stare made him shudder.

Renji was so hard already, all he wanted to do was reach down and relieve himself a little. Instead, he satisfied himself with a shift of his feet and allowed himself a small moan.

Byakuya seemed to like that. His expression didn’t change much, though his mouth opened slightly and his breath seemed to quicken.

“And what are you waiting for now?” Byakuya snapped. “I will see you striped before my tea arrives.”

Ugh.

The thought of Aio seeing him naked, performing like this, debasing himself for Byakuya—it was too much. He couldn’t hurry, despite the command. He’d remove the shirts one at a time, maybe even take a moment or two to fold them up nicely and set them to one side. That would buy a few minutes. How long do you suppose it took to make tea and bring up the stairs? It always seemed to show up so quickly when he wasn’t paying attention, when it didn’t matter.

Renji took a breath, steadying his pounding heart and shaking knees. He slid a hand between the two shirts at his shoulder and worked his way out of the black kosode, carefully. Damn if the silks didn’t want to stick together like glue. Every shifting movement of undressing caused fabric to slip torturously against his hot, aching, sensitive cock. After what seemed like hours, somehow, miraculously, the kisode was off and in his hands. He thought it would be ever-so clever to fold it, but fuck if his hands forgot how to do the simplest things, especially when all he wanted was to touch himself. As he fumbled with the cloth, Renji’s hips rocked, thrusting a fraction involuntarily, as if determined to embarrass him all on their own.

“Look at yourself,” Byakuya mused, sounding deeply pleased, “Such a shameful, eager beast.”

A hiss of a breath escaped his lips at that. Gods, it was so true. And the pace Renji had set for himself was actually making things so much worse. He was staring to sweat. He wanted desperately just to tear the rest of his clothes off, because maybe, just maybe, then he’d be allowed to pleasure himself for Byakuya’s entertainment.

A creak of the settling of the house made him jump. 

Renji couldn’t quite stifle a deep grunting whimper. He had to hold together. The tea would arrive any minute, wouldn’t it? It had to. Then, once Aio was gone and the door was shut, Byakuya could use Renji in whatever sick, perverted way he wanted--once, twice, a thousand times—Renji was beyond caring about that part. But, he wasn’t ready to be bent over, fucking himself or whatever in front of a goddamn audience.

Especially not Aio. There were hundreds of people at this estate. Why did it have to be someone he knew that answered Byakuya’s summons?

Renji gave up trying to make the kisode anything other than a mess. He dropped the black shirt to the side; afraid that if he bent down to set it aside neatly, he’d start dry humping the pillows. At this point it was almost a relief to just shrug out of the shitagi and let the air cool his fevered skin.

At least Renji knew he could linger at this stage a little while. Byakuya’s pleasure at seeing his tattoos was apparent… well, to Renji, anyway. The captain held his body stock still, and seemed to have forgotten how to breathe. His arousal was clear in the slight blush on his otherwise pale cheekbones and the way his tongue briefly touched his lips.

Renji checked the rice paper door hopefully. No sign of Aio and the tea.

His hands hesitated at his obi. He turned to the door again. Could he really do this?

There was one more thing before the hakama! Reaching up, Renji undid the tie at the back of his head. Once the silk was free, he took a moment to shake out his hair. Byakuya made his first audible sound at that, a deep almost plaintive moan.

Renji ran his fingers through his hair, and took another furtive glance at the door. Were those footsteps? His hands went slowly to his obi. What if Aio was still minutes away from arriving? Would Byakuya really call her in, shame them all with Renji’s nakedness? He’d already had one serving girl find him sprawled out nude on Byakuya’s bed, restrained with kidō. Somehow, to Renji’s mind, that had been more ‘decent,’ since they’d finished—privately. All this burning, painful need seemed… filthy, dirty.

“Did I tell you to stop?” Byakuya asked.

Renji looked at him pleadingly. “I can’t. I can’t do it, not here--not with Aio coming back. I’m sorry. You can take me somewhere, anywhere—“

But the rest of Renji words were lost when he suddenly felt the bookcase at his back. Renji’s head banged into the wood, and the shelves pressed into the skin of his back. Byakuya had flashstepped, a single hand in the center of his chest held Renji firmly in place. The other cupped Renji’s cock suddenly. With a cry, Renji bucked up against it desperately, pressing himself into Byakuya’s hand.

Byakuya gave him an almost pitying look. “Your body knows better how to behave than you do.”

Renji only had a wordless groan in reply. All the while, he kept banging himself against Byakuya’s unmoving palm, like some rutting dog. Then Renji remembered he had the use of his hands, and he grabbed Byakuya’s wrist and pushed and pulled, frantically trying to make him move.

Despite his desperation, Renji heard it: a quiet knock at the door.

“No,” Renji gasped, all of a sudden trying to change his tact, squirming to get out from Byakuya grasp. Byakuya, meanwhile, squeezed and said calmly, “Come.”

It seemed to be a command to both of them, because Renji had to grab Byakuya’s kimono in both hands to keep from dropping to his knees as everything spilled out in a hot rush. He buried his face against Byakuya’s chest, and tried not to sob from the relief, especially since Byakuya continued to calmly palm and stroke him.

Somewhere over the sounds of his own agonizing pleasure he heard Aio’s scream and the sound of a tea service hitting the floor. Byakuya’s face turned to scowl disapprovingly at the serving girl. Renji was still clutching at him like a weak puppy, panting against the captain’s cool skin. Byakuya’s hand was still between his legs, moving more roughly now, making his ass grind against the bookshelf from the overstimulation. Gods how they must look! Renji squeezed his eyes shut; he didn’t want to see Aio’s face, see her big brown eyes wide in horror at the state of him, half-naked and so… indecent.

“You will clean this immediately.”

Renji and Aio simultaneously muttered miserably, “Yes, sir.”

“No, Renji,” Byakuya said softly. “You’ve behaved beautifully.”

If that was true, why did he want to throw up? And why wouldn’t Byakuya stop groping at him? He tried to catch his breath and pull himself more upright, but Byakuya’s hand closed tightly around his balls hard enough that Renji grunted from the pain. Renji tried to writhe out of his grip, only to end up backing up hard enough against the bookcase that a few small manuscripts fell to the floor.

Aio made a small sound of despair and horror.

“Stop,” Renji whispered.

“Very well,” Byakuya said, letting him go so suddenly Renji lost his footing. As Byakuya shook him loose, Renji slid to the floor, landing hard on his ass. Byakuya turned and strode across the floor toward the still open door, pausing briefly over Aio’s nervous gathering of shattered pottery to say, “I will take my tea in the master suite. See that Lieutenant Abarai finds his way there once he’s able.”

Aio looked at Renji, who looked pretty much anywhere else. She must have nodded or make some other kind of acknowledgment because Byakuya swept from the room.

Able? Renji wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to make his way to Byakuya bedroom ever again; he was so humiliated.

 _No_ , Renji thought with a sigh, as he got to his feet, _no more kidding himself_. He was into it. The proof was growing cold and sticky and gross in his hakama. “Uh, hey, Aio,” he said, steadying himself on the bookcase. “Do you think there’s any chance someone from the estate could go back to my quarters and fetch my robe and another uniform?”

She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. “I… oh, Renji, of course.”

"Cool." Despite his resolve, he had to look away, “And, is there a washroom anywhere between here and this master suite of his?”

 

#

Renji arrived before the tea did, surprising Byakuya. From the door, Byakuya hear him mutter, “Jeez, this place is huge. How many rooms does a person need to sleep in, anyway?”

Byakuya set his book down on the end table. “Follow the sound of my voice,” he suggested.

Renji’s chuckle was almost more surprising than the fact he came at all. “What I need is a goddamn map. Or maybe breadcrumbs.”

Soon enough Renji was peering around the corner. He seemed to have taken the time to wash his face, as a few strands of crimson hair stuck wetly to cheekbone and throat. Otherwise, it was still that stunning jumble that fell in thick locks. Renji had removed his hakama in favor of using the white shitagi as a makeshift robe. With only the ties to hold it together and no obi, it hung open much lower than the uniform normally would, and revealed tantalizing bits of dark tattoos on chest and stomach.

“There you are,” Renji smiled, stepping all the way into the room.

_A smile?_

Not exactly the greeting Byakuya was expecting, though a welcome one. Byakuya shifted slightly in the huge bed to make room for Renji, though, unthinkingly, he had left space for him on the right side as usual.

“You know,” Renji said crawling in and placing a little kiss on Byakuya’s cheek, “You could have ordered food for two, at least. I’m starving.”

Byakuya watched as Renji fluffed up the pillows and arranged the covers, settling in. If he’d known Renji would react this way, he wouldn’t have taken care of himself so quickly. And… more frustratingly, it was difficult to know if Renji had felt any real shame at all. He _was_ meant to. This scene had been intended as punishment for the public humiliation Byakuya had suffered at the Eleventh for Renji’s infidelity.

“Is that a balcony? That must be awesome in the summer. What’s the view? The cherry orchard?” Renji asked peering into the dark. With a yawn that stretched long, lean muscles, he rolled over to lie down on his back and looked up at Byakuya. “How come we didn’t sleep in this room before?”

“These rooms belonged to my parents most recently,” Byakuya said. “I still tend to think of this as their bed.”

“Whoa!” Renji said, pushing back up into a sitting position frantically and staring at he covers like they were going to bite him. “Shit!”

Byakuya couldn’t hold back the small chuckle, “They’ve been gone a long time, Renji. I’m sure they don’t mind.”

“I don’t know,” Renji said, with a shake of his head, still looking at the blankets as if expecting their avenging ghosts to rise up any minute. “I’m guessing they wouldn’t approve.”

“It’s hard to know,” Byakuya said quietly. “I’ve always thought that perhaps my father would have been my ally when I presented Hisana to the family. He had a lot less… concern about breeding. He might especially like _you_ , in fact. He was fond of competence--in everyone, but particularly in soldiers. My father was the lieutenant of the Sixth, you understand, under my grandfather. From all accounts, he was a very good vice-captain, too, the sort of person soldiers could turn to for advice—very hands-on, connected to his troops, personable, warm.”

“Huh,” Renji remarked, relaxing a little at that. Byakuya could feel Renji’s curious look, the one that asked: _‘how come you’re nothing like that?’_

“I take after my mother,” Byakuya explained. “She was far more judgmental and exacting. A horrible tutor. Not patient at all. She had little interest in anything that wasn’t already perfect. But, she was also a closet romantic. If I had told her I was in love, she would have found a way to welcome you both.”

Renji had sunk back down into the mattress and his eyes were closed, listening intently. “I bet she was beautiful.”

“Very,” Byakuya said. “I’ve been told, however, I’m a dead ringer for my father.”

Renji cracked open an eye, and gave Byakuya a crooked smile. “Damn. A whole family of pretty.”

Byakuya allowed himself a smile at the compliment, “Indeed.”

Stifling another yawn, Renji tucked his arms under his head. “They sound cool. I wish I could have met them.”

Byakuya reached over to smooth an errant strand of hair from Renji’s face, “Hmm, perhaps. Though time has no doubt softened my memories. It’s just as likely they would have detested you and disowned me.”

Renji nodded absently, looking like he was ready to fall asleep.

So Byakuya planted a soft kiss on his forehead and said, “You do understand that I don’t want you sleeping with anyone else, yes?”  


Renji snorted, and rolled over. “Yeah. I got that.”

“I’m serious, Renji.”

“Oh, I got that, too. Loud and clear.”

“Good.”


End file.
